Hello! I know I should be working on TWL, but I've had this idea in my head for about a month, and I've finally decided to write it out. Plus, this is a oneshot, so it won't get in the way of my updating schedule for TWL.

Since I've written a lot of stories about the Baltics during the Soviet era, I wanted to try writing one that focuses on them right afterwards. This will focus solely on Latvia, and will delve deep into his mind.

The reason I'm writing this is because I'm sort of getting tired of seeing stories where after the Baltics are free, and they don't have to deal with Russia's horrid treatment, they seem to be perfectly fine, like nothing happened. I personally think that after going through so much trauma, all three Baltics (though particularly Latvia) would have emotional scars as well as the physical ones. This is basically the story of an outsider (America) discovering how deep the damage went.

This story takes place in autumn of 1992 (October).

Note: though I got the title of this story from the song from Chess, it has nothing to do with the story. (This is NOT a songfic.)

This story should NOT be taken as yaoi.

*Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya*

"Pity the Child"

America tapped his foot as he waited by his front door, anxiously checking his watch every few seconds. Any moment now, his guests would be arriving, and he wanted to make sure that he was at the door when they knocked. After five more minutes (though it felt like an eternity to America), the telltale sound of knocking pulled him out of his daze. Smiling, he opened the door.

"Lithuania, Estonia, Latvia," he said, nodding to each of them. "Come on in!"

"Thank you." Lithuania smiled warmly, walking inside.

Estonia, on the other hand, only nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. He glanced at Latvia, who held his hand, and made a 'follow me' gesture with his head. The youngest Baltic narrowed his eyes before picking up his suitcase, trailing into the house after his friend.

"Latvia? Why don't you put your bag upstairs and get to know the house," Lithuania suggested.

"Awesome idea! I'll give the little guy the official tour once you leave, but he can explore the second floor by himself!" America turned to his young guest, smiling. "Your room's the second door on the right. I took the liberty of putting a Sega Genesis and a Super Nintendo in it, just for you. There are plenty of games; feel free to play 'em! The room next door to yours is a game room, which has pool, foosball, and ping pong tables. And don't get me started on all the equipment I've got for sports!"

He patted Latvia on the shoulder. The boy stiffened and clenched his fists, and for a second, the smile fell off of America's face. Must be nerves. Ah, well, he'll soon be smiling and laughing in no time! Smiling once more, he ruffled Latvia's hair.

"Oh. Thank you, Mr. America." Latvia's voice was barely audible, and he didn't meet America's eyes. "I think I'll just wait upstairs until you call me back down." He bowed his head, his tiny hands gripping the front of his coat.

Before the energetic Nation could respond, Latvia grabbed his suitcase and bolted up the stairs. After a few moments, the sound of a door slamming could be heard. America rubbed a hand through his hair, the smile now completely gone. Did I say something wrong?

"Alfred." Lithuania's calm voice broke the silence. "There's a reason why I asked if Raivis could stay with you for a week."

"Yeah, I know. The kid just needs to relax. By the week is over, he'll be as energetic as Sealand!"

"No." This time, Estonia spoke, his eyes and expression completely serious. "He needs more than just fun and games. He needs to heal. The Soviet Union might have disbanded, and our freedom restored, but his mind is still stuck in our dark days. Lithuania and I thought it would be best if he was away from the region for awhile. His boss gave us permission to take him here; because of how he's been acting, he isn't adequately performing his duties as a Nation. As for why we chose to ask you for help, Toris trusts you. I wanted him to stay at Finland's, but I trust Toris's judgment."

"We don't expect him to be all smiles," Lithuania chimed in, his warm voice contrasting with Estonia's cold one. "But when we pick him up, we hope the stress and fear he feels lessened, if only a little bit." He fiddled with the buttons on his jacket. "He's just a child, but the way he acts sometimes? I'm so worried about him."

America nodded, a weird feeling making its way into his stomach. This isn't what I signed up for! Who's gonna play video games with me, now? Inwardly shaking his head, he pushed the selfish thoughts out of his mind. Lithuania is counting on me to help Latvia. He's always been such a good friend to me, so the least I could do is try.

"Okay," he said aloud. "I understand now." He pushed his glasses higher up on his nose. "Tell me some stuff about Latvia, to help me connect with him more."

"Well," Lithuania began, "he likes nature, especially flowers. While we still…worked for…Russia, he wasn't able to go outside much, so he'll probably appreciate it if you take him to a park. He also likes to read, particularly romance novels."

"What, like those trashy ones Germany reads, or Japan's infamous adult manga?"

"No!" Estonia retorted sharply. "He likes classics like Emma and Pride and Prejudice. He hid tons of Jane Austen's novels under a floorboard in our old room; he didn't want Russia to find them. I have no idea how he managed to get them, but they're some of his prized possessions."

Lithuania coughed, signaling that he wanted to continue. "He also likes writing stories and poems and writes them, as well as ideas for plots and characters, in a leather-bound journal. However, don't ask him to read it; he is very self-conscious. He nearly burst into tears when I flipped through it once. It's all in Latvian, though, so you wouldn't be able to read it."

America nodded, the new information buzzing around in his head. "Does he have any special food he likes to eat?"

"We don't expect you to cook Latvian dishes, but he likes caraway cheese, barbequed meat, bacon, potatoes, and fish," Lithuania explained.

"Does he like burgers?"

"Well, he's, um, never had them. Russia thought they were too 'American'." The brunet tugged on the bottom of his jacket.

America nearly passed out from shock. "That's it; I'm grilling 'em up for dinner tonight!"

Estonia just shook his head. "There's also one more thing you should know."

"What is it?"

"Well," the bespectacled boy answered, "he really likes alcohol. Beer is his favorite, but since vodka was the only thing available when we…worked for…Russia, he became used to it quickly."

"I don't have any alcohol here; the last time I did, England drank it all and puked all over the living room. It was so nasty! Plus, according to my country's laws, I'm still underage. It wouldn't look good if I had it in my house, especially since sometimes my boss stops by." He paused to take a breath. "Hey, wait a minute! Latvia's just a kid! You let him drink?"

"We didn't know he picked up the habit until it was too late," Estonia replied. "But try to see where he's coming from. Remember who we lived with."

America numbly nodded. "Is there anything else?"

Estonia shook his head. "That should be it." He looked at his watch, his eyes widening. "We have to go; our flight boards in two hours, and you know I like to be at the airport a bit early."

"Right. I'll call Raivis down so we can say goodbye." Lithuania buttoned his jacket. "Raivis?"

After a few moments, the small Nation ran down the stairs, nearly tripping on the last step. He caught himself before he fell, stopping jerkily at the brunet's feet. "Yes?"

"We're going to leave now. But don't worry; we'll be back in a week. I'm sure you'll have a great ti—Oof!" Before Lithuania finished his sentence, Latvia launched himself at him, wrapping his arms around the older boy. Neither said anything until Latvia suddenly pulled away.

"Sorry."

"Raivis, listen to me." Estonia placed a hand on his shoulder, his cold expression turning into one filled with warmth and love. "You'll be fine, trust me. You won't be here forever, only a week. Just…try, okay?"

Latvia nodded before burying his face in the older blond's coat. America swore that he heard sniffles, and he tugged at the collar of his shirt, feeling extremely out of place.

"Remember what I said, Raivis," Estonia murmured, gently wiping away Latvia's tears. "See you in a week." He gave his friend one last hug before walking outside.

America held the door open, waiting for Lithuania to leave as well. In a moment of spontaneity, he brushed his fingers against his closest friend's hair. "You stopped pulling it back."

"It was too easy to grab that way," was all the thinner Nation said. "Take care of Raivis, okay? He really needs someone right now."

"Right!" America gave him a thumbs-up. "He'll have an amazing time; I guarantee it!"

"Thank you." Lithuania smiled before joining Estonia in their rented car.

As soon as it sped out of sight, America walked back inside, shutting the door behind him. He looked around, assuming that Latvia was still in the living room. He ran a hand through his hair when he realized that he wasn't. "Latvia?"

There was no response. Puzzled, America walked upstairs. Maybe he's in his room. However, when he checked, he wasn't there.

"Latvia?"

Still no response. Where are you, Raivis? "I've got a cool new game, and I wanted someone to play it with me. Do you like Mario?"

He was met with silence. Now starting to get a bit concerned, America ran down the hallway, checking each room. When he got to the second guest bedroom, relief flowed through him. "There you are!"

Latvia sat on the ground, his legs brought to his chest and his head resting on his knees. His eyes were open, but he looked to be in a daze. Unnerved, America did the only thing he could think of; he clapped loudly.

Obviously startled, Latvia stumbled to his feet, standing as straight as possible. His arms were plastered stiffly at his sides, and he still didn't meet his host's eyes.

"Latvia?"

"Yes, sir?" was the reply. "What do you need?"

"Dude, what's up with the 'sir'? I'm not an old man!" Though he answered energetically, something in his gut told him that something was very wrong.

"Sorry, sir, I mean Mr. America!"

"There you go again! Just 'America' would do, or even Alfred!"

"Oh. Okay."

"What were you doing in here? Your room's where your suitcase is."

"Dunno." Latvia shrugged. "I walked around this floor and ended up here. I must've been daydreaming again. Sorry for worrying you."

"Don't apologize." America was about to ruffle his guest's hair, but thought against it, especially considering what happened the last time he tried it. "Say, wanna go on the grand tour?"

"Okay." Nodding, Latvia followed America out of the room.

Throughout the entire tour, the small Nation was silent, only nodding whenever the older boy pointed something out. As soon as they walked throughout the entire house, Latvia ran back up to his room.

America knew that he wouldn't want to play any video games or sports, so he didn't ask. Sighing, he began to gather the ingredients to make dinner. As soon as he walked outside to start the grill, he shivered. I forgot that it's October. I really don't want to be out here for too long. Narrowing his eyes, tried to think of what to make. I know! I'll pick up some food from good ol' Mickey D.'s!

Excited to have an excuse to eat food from his favorite restaurant, he quickly put the bag of frozen burger patties away and ran upstairs. "Hey, Latvia! Guess what? We're having McDonald's for dinner!"

For once, a glimmer appeared in the smaller boy's eyes. "R-really? How does the food taste?"

"What?" America was sure that his eyes went comically wide. "You've never eaten at a McDonald's before?"

"Mr. Russia said it was 'food only a capitalist pig would eat'."

"Of course he'd say that," America muttered. "Do you want me to get a menu?"

"Yes, please." Latvia bowed his head.

The taller boy dashed to his own room to grab the menu he always kept on his desk. "Here. Choose whatever you want; I've got a special discount."

After perusing the menu for a few minutes, Latvia set it on the bed next to him. "Can I have a Double Quarter Pounder with cheese and some French fries?"

"That's a big sandwich for a little guy like you!"

"I haven't eaten anything all day, you moron!"

Latvia looked just as shocked as America did. He clapped his hands over his mouth, his already large eyes growing wider. "I'm so sorry, sir!" he exclaimed, his shoulders beginning to shake.

"Eh? Don't worry about it; I've been called much worse. And what did I tell you about calling me 'sir'?" Smiling, he grabbed the menu. "I assume you don't want to go out, so I'll go pick up the food while you wait here. Is that all right with you?"

Latvia just nodded. After a few moments, he finally spoke. "Can you show me where the kitchen is? I'm thirsty, and I wanted to pour myself a drink."

"Sure thing! Follow me!"

Latvia complied, though once again, he didn't meet America's eyes.

When they arrived at the kitchen, the bespectacled Nation pointed to a cabinet. "The glasses are in there. Want me to get you one?"

"No, that's okay; I'll get one myself."

Latvia stood on his tiptoes and opened the cabinet. America inwardly smiled, amused at the younger boy's determined expression. "Are you sure you don't need a stool?"

"Huh?" Startled, Latvia whirled around, the glass that was in his hands dropping to the floor and shattering. Instead of laughing it off or swearing like America expected, he stood rigid, a look of pure fear in his eyes.

As America took a step forward to take a closer look, Latvia stepped backwards, pressing his back against the wall and sinking to the floor. "Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no."

Now America was sure that there was something very, very wrong with his guest. He took another step, which only caused the smaller boy to cry out, tears beginning to spill from his eyes. "I'm so sorry, sir! I'm stupid and clumsy! Please…don't…" He let the end of his sentence trail off, instead rapidly speaking in a language America did not understand. However, he picked up on a few 'nyets', and assumed he was speaking Russian.

Disgusted by the fact that Latvia wasn't even speaking his own native language, he strode forward and kneeled down, attempting to pull the boy into a hug.

Instead, Latvia squirmed out of his grasp, his eyes unfocused. "I'll do anything you want; I'll pick up the shards with my hands, walk across them, or even eat them! Just please don't hurt me, or the others!"

"No! You don't need to do anything. I'll clean it up and get you dinner!" What's wrong with him? No one else is here with us!

He snapped himself out of his thoughts when he saw Latvia lunge forward and start picking up the shards. His shaking hands gripped them so tightly that tiny rivers of blood fell onto the floor, contrasting with the white linoleum.

Not wanting the boy to further injure himself, America gently grabbed his wrists, forcing him to drop the glass. As soon as his hands touched Latvia's skin, the younger boy went limp.

"I'm sorry," he cried, repeating the phrase until it turned into a garbled mess.

When America embraced him, he didn't try to escape this time. He rubbed circles on the younger boy's back, waiting for him to stop crying.

When Latvia did, America gently helped him up and guided him into the bathroom to disinfect and bandage his wounds. After he finished wrapping gauze around his guest's palms, he walked him upstairs. "I take it you don't want anything to eat?"

Latvia just shook his head, burying himself under the covers. Though it was only around seven o'clock, America could sense that the boy was ready to sleep.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call out for me."

Latvia nodded. "Good night, Mr. America."

"Do you want me to wake you up in the morning?"

"No. I always wake up at five. No exceptions."

America said nothing to respond, realizations whizzing through his mind faster than a car on the highway. He left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. His appetite gone, he decided to change into his pajamas and sit in his (rarely used) office to think.

Sighing, he sank into the (not very comfortable) chair and replayed the actions of his small guest in his mind.

He seems to only speak when spoken to. When he does speak, his voice is soft, and he doesn't meet my eyes. Underneath the shyness, he seems to be pretty blunt, but I can tell he tries to suppress it. He also treats me as his superior, which is rather nice. He shook his head, clearing his mind of the thought. What am I saying? No one treats me that formally, not even Germany! The only other person who had that attitude around me was… His eyes snapped open.

Suddenly, Lithuania's comment about his hair made sense. That bastard! It was him? He remembered when the brunet lived with him all those years ago. He had accidentally discovered that his friend had some scars on his back, though Lithuania had said that they came from 'work'. That statement was always odd. Now, America felt extremely stupid for believing the now-obvious lie. Why did I brush that off? That communist must have hurt him to give him those scars. And from the way he was acting after World War II, he only got worse. He must have set his sights on Latvia too, if he's acting this afraid.

In the back of his mind, he could hear England chastising him for calling Russia communist when he wasn't anymore, that he wasn't being respectful, but he didn't care. If he caused Latvia to act this way, then he doesn't deserve my respect.

Pushing thoughts of Russia from his head, he resumed his evaluation of Latvia's actions. When he broke the glass, he looked so scared, like I was going to beat him, or something!

He recalled what the small Nation said. "I'll do anything you want; I'll pick up the shards with my hands, walk across them, or even eat them! Just please don't hurt me, or the others!"

From the way he spoke, this happened before. He gripped the armrests of the chair tightly. He had to eat glass? What other sick things did Russia do to him and the others?

Sighing, he rested his head on his desk. What am I going to do? Suddenly tired, he let his eyes close.

America didn't know what time it was, but he woke to screaming. Now fully awake, he leapt out of his chair and ran upstairs. Throwing the door to Latvia's room open, he turned on the light.

The boy sat bolt upright, all color drained from his face. His azure eyes were wide and tear-filled, and soft whimpers escaped his throat. As soon as America got close enough, he threw his arms around him.

"Latvia? What's wrong?"

"Everything was dark! Couldn't see! But I know he was there; I could hear their screams, and…and…" He broke down into tears, burying his face in the older boy's shirt.

America wasn't sure what to do. Acting on instinct, he rubbed his guest's back, trying to calm him down. After a few minutes, his cries ceased, and his breathing returned to normal. As soon as America thought he was ready to go back to sleep, he gently set Latvia down on the bed. He was about to go back to his room, but the tiny hand gripping his own stopped him.

"C-can you stay?" Latvia quivered, his voice barely audible. "I…I don't like sleeping alone."

Before his brain could comprehend what his body was doing, he pulled the covers back, sliding onto the bed next to Latvia. Almost immediately, he felt the small Nation nuzzle into his shirt again.

"You live alone now, right? What do you do at night?" In his tired state, America just blurted the question out.

In his equally exhausted frame-of-mind, Latvia responded without filtering his words. "I have a big pillow I hold, to remind me of Estonia. It doesn't have a heartbeat, though, so it's not the same." He gripped America's shirt tighter. "I don't sleep well, now. I'm free, jā, but I don't feel like it. It…hurts…to be alone, and even with people around, it still hurts. Though I guess it's better to feel pain than be numb, like Estonia says he is…"

He said something else, but his voice was too soft for America to understand. The hand on his shirt relaxed, and when he looked down, he saw that Latvia was asleep. Brushing the unruly wavy hair away from the small blond's face, the American unconsciously held him closer. The extra warmth was making him more tired than he already was, so it only took a few moments until he was asleep as well.

/

The next two days were less eventful than the first. Since his breakdown in the kitchen, Latvia had become more withdrawn, and barely spoke at all. He only left his room to eat, shower, and use the bathroom. When he did speak, it was in the formal tone that America was learning to despise. The only time he ever showed any emotion was at night, when the two shared a bed. Latvia would cling to him, murmuring his thanks and apologizing for acting like a baby.

America, on the other hand, talked nonstop whenever he saw his young guest, hoping that he'd get annoyed with his constant chatter and respond. However, his silence continued, much to the bespectacled boy's disappointment.

That changed in the afternoon. America decided to take Lithuania's advice and offer to take Latvia out somewhere. "Hey, Latvia? Wanna go to the park, then stop at McDonald's for dinner on the way back? You still didn't get your Double Quarter-Pounder with cheese."

A brief, rare smile lit up the smaller boy's features. "The park? Are there flowers?" He blushed, looking away.

"Well, I'm not sure. It is autumn, after all."

Latvia's face fell a bit.

"But I'm sure there'll be some!" America tried to recover. "I'll find some; I'll be the newest hero, Flower Gatherer!" Okay, even I think that sounds stupid…

However, Latvia smiled at his awful attempt of a joke. "Can we go, now?"

When the two got to the park, it was deserted. America was happy about this; he wasn't sure how Latvia would react to other children approaching him. He thought that the smaller boy would want to play on the various climbing structures or goof off, like Sealand was known to do, but instead, he sat in the middle of the grass, his eyes closed and his fingers tangled in the blades. America inwardly sighed, smiling at the expression on his guest's face. For the first time since he got here, he looked truly at peace.

America didn't know how long Latvia sat there, unmoving, but when he finally opened his eyes, they looked relaxed. "Can I go on the swings for a bit?"

"You don't have to ask me; go right ahead."
Latvia nodded, the small smile still on his face. His tiny mouth was open in a silent expression of happiness, and not for the first time, America questioned Latvia's age.

Is he really fifteen? He acts so much younger than that.

After swinging for what seemed to be an eternity (America was getting dizzy watching him), Latvia finally let the swing come to a stop.

"Mr. America? What time is it?"

Said American glanced at his watch. "It's five thirty." Suddenly, he realized how dark it was getting, so he grabbed Latvia's hand. One could never be too careful.

The smaller boy squeaked in surprise. "Mr. America?"

"It's getting late. The shadier people come out when it gets dark."

Latvia stepped closer to his host, nervousness starting to show.

"But don't worry, though! If any creep gets close to you, the hero is here to kick their ass from sea to shining sea!" Despite his energy, America was getting worried. Latvia looked young for his age, and would be the perfect target for some of the…less than pleasant people…in the city. They wouldn't know he was a Nation; he'd be just a vulnerable boy to them.

Pushing the dark thoughts out of his mind, he quickly walked out of the park, making sure Latvia kept up with him. Luckily, the walk to the nearest McDonald's went without incident, and they were able to order their food quickly.

Eager to watch his guest's reaction to his meal, he scarfed down his three burgers and fries in record time. He smiled as Latvia picked up the (in his opinion, too large) burger and took a tentative bite. He fought back a laugh as the boy's eyes widened and he took a larger bite. Before America knew it, Latvia finished the entire sandwich and was smiling.

"Did you like it?"

"It was better than Russia said it would be. I was expecting it to taste really bad, but it was actually good!"

For once, Latvia didn't suppress his bluntness, which made America smile. "If you're finished, let's go home. I'll make you some of my special hot chocolate."

"Laced with vodka?" Latvia's eyes lit up. "Eduard would make me that as a treat sometimes, when days got…bad. Toris would always yell at him, but that wouldn't stop him."

Not knowing what to say, America tugged on his shirt collar. "Umm, no. I meant marshmallows, whipped cream, and chocolate shavings. The strongest beverage I have in my house is Mountain Dew."

"Oh." The smile disappeared, but a dimmer version appeared second later. "It sounds delicious, too. I'd like some."

As soon as the two left the restaurant, Latvia slipped his hand into America's. Smiling warmly, the older boy felt a burst of warmth in his chest. Is this how England felt all those years ago?

Once they got home, Latvia went upstairs to take a shower, while America went straight to the kitchen to make the hot chocolate. After it was finished, he waited for it to cool, as well as the sound of Latvia exiting the bathroom and going back to his room.

When he was sure the younger boy was ready for a visitor, he carefully brought the still-steaming mug upstairs. He knocked on the door, hoping that his guest was decent. "Latvia, I brought your hot chocolate."

Not getting a response, he took that as a sign to come in and opened the door.

"Wait!"

The cry came too late; the damage was already done. What America saw almost made him drop the mug; it took all of his willpower just to set it on the dresser. Angry-looking scars crisscrossed the boy's back, creating a disturbing lattice.

"What happened?" America's voice was stony. He had a feeling as to what, who, inflicted the wounds, but he wanted to hear it from Latvia himself.

"Go away!" The short Nation's eyes watered. "Just leave me alone!"

"Raivis Galante, I am not leaving this room until you tell me what happened!" Dear God, I sound like Arthur…

His stern tone must have convinced the Latvian, since he wiped the unshed tears from his eyes. His entire body seemed to deflate, and he looked down. When he finally met America's eyes, the older boy was chilled. Latvia no longer looked like a child; he gave off the aura of someone much older, even older than himself.

"Who do you think did this?"

The boy's voice scared America even more. It was not the weak whisper that he was used to, nor was it formal. It was harsh-sounding and bitter, the tone almost venomous.

"Go ahead, laugh," he continued. "Laugh that I wasn't able to defend myself, though I am as much of a Nation as Russia." His tormentor's name was snarled.

"Raivis…"
"I did everything that bastard asked; I was his perfect little servant. But I was never good enough in his eyes. Eduard was intelligent, and Toris was filled with kindness. Too much kindness; he became Russia's favorite quickly. I was the clumsy one, the stupid one, the shaky one. Eduard was whipped because he was too snarky. Toris was whipped because he stood up for us. But me? I was whipped because I was never. Good. Enough. 'Your soup was horrible, Raivis! Toris' was so much better!' 'Why aren't you smart like Eduard, Raivis? He wouldn't have fucked up the paperwork like you did!' God! I can hear him now! His voice echoes in my head every. Damn. Night! Why won't it stop?" He grabbed at his hair, his eyes wild.

America didn't know what to do; he had never seen Latvia act this way before. When the boy started to cry, he did the only thing he could think of: he sat down on the bed next to him and embraced him.

Once Latvia's sobs quieted to whimpers, America finally found his voice. Trying to get his guest's—no, friend's—mind off of being whipped, he changed the subject. "What did you like to do for fun, when you were at Russia's?"

The younger boy stiffened, and when he looked up, America noticed that the bitterness was back.

"Well, when it was snowing, I liked to look out the window and count the flakes, whenever I got a break. I also like vodka; I can drink fifteen shots in one sitting if I really feel like it!"

America was appalled. "Didn't you ever go outside and just play? ...And you're too young to be drinking that much so casually!"

Latvia shrugged apathetically. "Long ago, I remember I went outside. When I was with...him...I wasn't allowed to. Lithuania and Estonia were, but no, not me. I was too 'misbehaved', too 'wild'. As soon as I was tossed from Germany back to Russia, I haven't been outside till now. Besides going to world meetings, if I was 'good', of course. As for the drinking, what else was there to do? I just wanted...wanted to pretend I was happy, at least for a little while. I needed it, you have to understand."

America just shook his head and laughed bitterly. "That's the problem, Raivis, I don't think I'll ever completely understand how you felt, since I never felt it myself." He laughed some more. "I was a child once, a fact that I like to overlook. It's disgusting that you never got the chance to be one." He looked at Latvia, though it was not with pity. "As a nation, you're technically older than me, yet as the human form we take, I am the older one. It's funny, isn't it?"

Latvia narrowed his eyes and coolly answered, "Yes, it is funny that you had the chance to grow, while I did not. Your caretaker was kind, while mine treated his subordinates like his property. Hilarious."

America inwardly shuddered. His tone…it's like Russia's! He realized that he said the wrong thing, and really offended the shorter boy. "Maybe I should go. Goodnight, Latvia."

He was about to slide off of the bed, but Latvia tightened his grip on him. "W-wait! I didn't want you to leave! Please don't leave!"

America was surprised (and disturbed) by the sudden change in his friend's mood. He slowly nodded. "I'll turn off the lights, but I'll be right back, okay."

Latvia nodded, his eyes wide. As soon as the older boy put his glasses on the nightstand and climbed back under the covers, the small blond snuggled into his chest, his tears seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"I'm sorry; I must have offended you," Latvia whispered, still crying. "Russia always said I was too blunt for my own good. I've just…kept this bottled up for so long; I snapped. Please don't hate me."

"Raivis, I will never hate you. What happened to you and the others wasn't right. My bosses never told me what Russia was doing to you."

"Thank you so much." America could tell that Latvia was half-asleep. Smiling sadly, he ruffled the younger boy's hair and embraced him. His stomach turned when he felt the raised skin of the scars, but he continued to hold him.

He barely caught what Latvia said, but when it finally registered in his mind, his own eyes filled with tears.

"Thank you for being my friend."

/

"Haha, see! I told you you'd like video games! Mario is awesome, am I right?" America laughed, its sound echoing throughout the entire room.

Latvia smiled shyly, nodding his head.

"You can take the Super Nintendo back home with you."

"B-but it's yours! I couldn't possibly…"

The short Nation was cut off. "Take it. Think of it as a gift."

From the way Latvia's eyes lit up, it was worth the price of another console. "Paldies! Er, thank you! Thank you very much!"

The telltale sound of knocking caused America to save the game and unplug the system. "Looks like they're here. Why don't you get your suitcase; I'll give this to Estonia. He'll make sure it doesn't break."

"Right." The boy looked almost…sad…as he left the room.

America found himself feeling sad, too. He had grown attached to the little Latvian, and was upset to see him go. After his outburst, the small blond had become more at ease, as though a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He even laughed, which startled the older boy. The sound was music to his ears, and it made his heart swell with joy.

He's healing. It'll take awhile, but I bet that one day, he'll be able to smile and laugh all the time.

Snapping himself back to reality, he quickly (but carefully) gathered up the console and the controllers, as well as a few games, and put them in a duffle bag. When he walked downstairs, he found that Latvia had already greeted Estonia and Lithuania.

After talking for a bit, Estonia reminded everyone that they needed to leave if they wanted to make it to the airport on time. America nodded, not wanting to cause his friends to miss their flight.

"Thank you," Lithuania whispered in his ear before leaving the house. "I can tell just by watching him walk that this has done wonders for him."

"It was no problem," America answered, giving his trademark thumbs-up to the brunet. "He can visit anytime! I'd love to have him stay a week in the summer; he'd love the Wisconsin Dells. You and Estonia should come as well; it'll be our vacation!"

Lithuania laughed before hugging his friend. "I'm sure it'll be great. As long as we can get time off."

"Oh, Toris, don't be such a workaholic!" America laughed, reaching into his pocket until he found what he was looking for. Suddenly, he spun the thinner boy around, fixing his hair until it was in an (albeit messy) ponytail. "There. It looks so much better that way! …And you don't have to worry about it being grabbed anymore."

Catching the meaning behind those words, Lithuania smiled, hugging America again. "Thank you."

America only saluted him.

The last to leave the house was Latvia, his eyes watering.

"Don't worry, Raivis; we'll see each other at world conferences, and I convinced Toris to let you stay here again in the summer. And remember…" He leaned close to Latvia and whispered in his ear. "Never stop being you; you're good enough for me."

Patting his friend on the shoulder, he chuckled at the stunned look on his face. "Good luck, Raivis!" He gave the boy a thumbs-up.

"R-right!" He responded with a (shaky) thumbs-up of his own before running off to join his fellow Baltics.

America smiled and waited until the car left his street before walking back inside.

End.

Haha, the ending was so cheesy, but I wanted the story to conclude on a happy note, XD.

This was my first time writing an entire story in the perspective of America, so I hope he wasn't too out-of-character. I wanted to show that he could be serious while still being his energetic self. (In my head-canon, I think that a lot of his obnoxious attitude is a facade, since everyone expects him to act that way.

As for Latvia, I wanted him to seem a bit unstable, so he switches from having a childish attitude to one that's much more mature and bitter. (He IS a Nation, after all, so I think he'd have moments where he'd act older than he looks.) This was my first time writing him so bitter (well, second if you count 'Boiling Point', XD), so I hope he wasn't too out-of-character.

In my head-canon, (and in some of the comics), Latvia is closer to Estonia than Lithuania. (Which is why, in this story, he says that he has a big pillow to cuddle with to [unsuccessfully] replace Estonia's embraces during the night.)

Speaking of which, another head-canon of mine is that Latvia is terrified to sleep alone, since he shared a bed with his fellow Baltics for so long.

Before you criticize me for having Latvia like McDonalds, think of this: When you were a child, and had McDonald's for the first time, didn't you think it was almost magical? (Haha, I did, at least...) I was trying to convey Latvia's childishness through that scene.

In this story, America had no idea that Russia was treating the Baltics so cruelly. Since America did not want to go to war with Russia (which is why we didn't help the Baltic nations out; apparently, freeing them wasn't worth it, since they were small countries [grr]), I thought that the wool could be pulled over Alfred's eyes, since he can be oblivious. (His bosses thought that he'd want to be the hero and save them, even if it meant war...)
Normally, I take a different route with this scenario, that America DID know what was going on, but I thought that the one I chose fit this story the best.

The stereotypical Latvian enjoys nature, so since Raivis is Latvia personified, I thought he would, too.

In my head-canon, Latvia is a very affectionate boy who likes attention. I believe that a lot of his bitterness comes from the fact that he was compared to the older Baltics a lot, and criticized because he didn't act like them. (Ex: he's not as kind and gentle as Lithuania, and he's not as book-smart as Estonia.)

Also in my head-canon, Latvia likes English literature, for some reason. (The thought of him having a collection of Jane Austen's novels makes me giggle because the image is so cute, XD.)

Yes, I included AmeLiet hints in this, XD. (It's my favorite pairing, and I love their interactions, so I wanted to include some implications of it.)

The Wisconsin Dells is the waterpark capital of the world, and is a popular vacation spot for Americans. (I'm actually going there for a few days this week, XDD.)

Translations:
jā: yes (Latvian)

I hope this wasn't too awful, and that everyone enjoyed it!